nothing left

In this world broken and alone,

No one to turn to.

Nowhere to return to.

It's an emotional rollercoaster, this thing called life.

Every man for himself.

They rip me to shreds like rabid dogs.

Empty is a feeling I know well.

More than any other.

It's reached the point of numbness.

Yet I keep fighting. Trying. Stressing. No one could possibly make me feel anymore worthless than I do.

I barely have any will left to live.

Only a couple threads left.

They've been worn to the bone.

Dried out and rotted.

All that remains is a shell.

A shell of a seed that once blossomed. There's nothing left.

Death seems so peaceful.

So welcoming.

So Comforting.

And as close as ever before.

At least Death wants me.

And will keep me.